


The Only Exception

by autumneth



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: But Not Much, Domesticity, Fluff, Gavin gets drunk by himself, Implied Gavin Free/Michael Jones, M/M, Michael is annoyed, My First Work in This Fandom, Pining is involved, Protective Michael, Some Plot, gavin is mostly just being gavin, michael's had enough of it, or has he?, this is a collection of one-shots related to the description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumneth/pseuds/autumneth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three times Gavin was in Michael's bed, and the one time he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a collection of one shots dedicated to and inspired almost entirely by my incessant need to torture Melissa, AKA rtmogar on tumblr. any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated!!

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

Michael awoke to the sound of his cell phone vibrating furiously.

He groaned, blinking into the darkness before fumbling blindly for the glasses left carelessly upon his bedside table. He lived by a simple philosophy: anything or anyone who woke him up deserved _exactly_ what was coming to them.  
By the time he had located the familiar wire frames and unlocked his iPhone, Michael had already half-composed a furious rant in his head.  
  


 

_Gavin 1:03AM: bevs????_

_Gavin 1:47AM: michalessss Are you homeeeeee >? _

_Gavin 2:05AM: cant get into my hse, ocmig over now_

_Gavin 2:12AM: micccccccccccc_

_Gavin 2:15AM: im soutsideeed_

_Gavin 2:15AM: si scooooold outsid emich ale_

_Gavin 2:15AM: wake ss upppp_

 

Cursing to himself, he tossed aside his blankets.  
He gathered a discarded t shirt from the floor of his bedroom, pulling the fabric over his head before making his way to the door. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened-- Gavin getting too drunk by himself, making unexpected house calls during the early hours of morning. 

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, working the array of locks before pulling the door open absentmindedly. In the doorway leaned a tall, sandy-haired figure, swaying gently despite the support.  
  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Gavin.” Michael whispered harshly, his voice sounding too loud in the heavy silence of the hallway. “How did you get in here?”

Gavin jolted at the sound of Michael’s voice, his face breaking into a lopsided grin. Michael noted his attire-- converse, jeans and a half-zipped hoodie over a t-shirt-- far too cold to be wearing during early spring in Austin. 

“Michael!” he beamed before leering into his shoulder, one hand fisting the fiber of his shirt. Michael stumbled backwards at the weight, cursing under his breath and pulling Gavin into the darkness of his apartment.

“Jesus Christ, dude, what did you have to drink tonight?”

“Jus’ a couple beers, s’ nothin’” Gavin slurred, fixing Michael with an easy grin as his fingers tucked under the boy’s shirt.

Michael huffed in frustration, attempting to pry Gavin away from himself. Gavin complied instantly, sliding his hands lazily up Michael’s torso to steady himself.  
A shadow passed over his face and he leaned closer, staring at Michael with such an intensity that he squirmed beneath the scrutiny.

In a way, Michael preferred this. Having Gavin close, where he could keep an eye on him-- especially when he was this tanked. It surpassed times before by a landslide, when Michael had received nearly undecipherable texts, blurred pictures of unfamiliar clubs and claims of run-ins with handsome strangers.  
He liked Gavin here.  
In his apartment, where he was safe.

“Michael,” Gavin spoke, recalling his attention. “Did you know you’ve got curly ‘air?”

Michael stifled a laugh, dropping his gaze to the tiled floor between them. When he looked back, the other boy was peering at his hair intently, as if he believed it was something that had never crossed Michael’s mind before.

“No fucking duh, dude,” Michael replied belatedly, running a hand through the errant mop above his head. Gavin’s gaze followed Michael’s hand with keen interest. Suddenly he reached out, lithely withdrawing a curl from the auburn mass. He tugged the curl straight before releasing it once more, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“Like, really curly,” he said as an afterthought, working the ringlet between his thumb and forefinger.

Michael drew in a careful breath, watching the amusement play across Gavin's face.

If his life was a cheesy romance movie, Michael thought then, this would be the part where they kissed. Just like that-- here, in the darkness of Michael’s apartment, Gavin’s hand a loose fist in Michael's hair, the space between them small enough that Michael could feel Gavin’s breath fanning over his skin.  
Michael stilled, lifting a hand to push his knuckles gently into Gavin’s torso. 

“Go to bed,” he spoke quietly, suddenly unable to meet Gavin’s gaze.

“Only if you come with me,” Gavin mumbled a reply into the fabric of Michael’s shirt.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Gavin had received a spare key to Michael’s apartment on a technicality. 

Michael was flying back home to Jersey for a week, and while his apartment was relatively low maintenance, he had a few plants he had received from his mom as a housewarming gift he didn’t want to wilt.  
Feng shui, or some shit.  
As seldom as he would admit it, Gavin was Michael’s closest friend, and Michael figured he was the least likely to fuck it up and forget. 

Gavin, of course, could not have been happier. 

“It’s going to be like we’re roomies, Michael!”  
“First of all,” Michael began as he struggled to zip his overfilled suitcase closed, “there will be no ‘rooming’ of any kind. All I need you to do is stop by every couple of days, water the stupid plants, and not break anything.”  
Gavin faked a pout for a moment before shrugging and plucking Michael’s passport off of the document pile that had composed atop his duvet.  
“You’re no fun.”  
“I’m fifty goddamn shades of fun, Gavin.” Michael said, hauling his luggage towards the door. “I just don’t want to come home to find the whole complex burned down because you thought you could microwave tinfoil.”  
Gavin appeared behind him a moment later, Michael’s passport in hand. He extended the navy booklet out to him, smiling fondly at Michael’s faux-scowl.

At times Michael missed the early days of their friendship, when Gavin hadn’t been aware that nearly all of his threats were empty. He grabbed the passport, stuffing it into his pocket before dropping his spare key into Gavin’s palm. He glanced at the clock, grimacing slightly as he noticed there were only 5 minutes until he was scheduled to be picked up in a taxi and taken to the airport.  
Michael sighed, extending the handle on his suitcase and wheeling it out into the hallway. He said goodbye to Gavin, hesitating as he moved to shut the door. Sticking his head back through the doorway, he gave Gavin a pointed look. 

“Please don’t fuck anything up.” 

Gavin only smiled. 

 

***

One flight and a rush-hour amount of traffic later, Michael found himself in the nostalgic familiarity of his childhood home. He’d been under siege by way of his mother’s prying questions upon arrival, bombarded with everything from “Do you have a girlfriend?” to “When was the last time you ate?”.  
He sank into the living room couch, digging his phone out of his pocket and thanking himself once more for convincing his mother to get wifi. He opened Gavin’s contact information, staring pensively before making the executive decision to Facetime him. 

Gavin picked up on the second ring, the pixelated image of his grin gaining clarity. Michael tried to ignore the nervous look in his eyes.  
“Hey, Gav. Sorry to bother you, but I needed to make sure you hadn’t wrecked the place somehow.”  
Gavin laughed loudly, his voice sounding tinny through his phone speakers. “You’ve hardly been gone six hours, Michael, how exactly do you expect me to-- oh, bollocks!”  
Michael cringed as Gavin’s phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, the camera displaying a frantic array of frames. Gavin cursed under his breath as his arm came into view, picking the phone off of the floor. He struggled to recover it for a moment before it came to his face once more-- and holy shit, was he in Michael’s bedroom?  
Gavin laughed sheepishly, passing a hand through his disheveled hair. Michael squinted, scrutinizing his surroundings as best he could through the phone screen.

“Hey, Gavin?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah?” 

“Why the fuck are you in my bed?” 

Gavin paused, mouth slightly agape. “Uhm… I’m not?” 

Michael sighed, rubbing a free hand over his face. Gavin was, and continued to be, a terrible liar. 

“Bullshit you are.” Michael accused, trying to keep his voice down. “All I asked you to do was water the plants.” 

“You never said your bed was off limits!” Gavin retorted, pulling Michael’s duvet up to his chin. 

“Beds are absolutely off limits!”

It was quiet for a moment as Michael flexed his hand, frustrated at the lack of power he had to deter what was happening back in his apartment.  
“Michael,” Gavin’s voice had gone soft, the way it always did when Michael was beginning to boil over.  
“What, Gavin?” he snapped, surprised by the bitterness in his own voice.  
“May I please stay in your bed?”  
“I--”  
“It’s warm,” Gavin continued, cutting him off, “and comfy, and it smells like you.” 

Michael would have made a sharp retort about that being the creepiest thing anyone’s ever said to him, if it weren’t for the lump in his throat. 

“Yeah,” he managed quietly, fiddling with a loose thread on his pant leg, “yeah, Gav, it’s fine.”

Gavin grinned, settling into the blankets in a way that made Michael wish he’d never left Texas.


End file.
